Dragon and Judge

CHAPTER 29

The search for the two humans lasted most of the night, with Golvins and lights moving erratically across the canyon floor. By morning, though, the searchers seemed to have given up and gone back to their normal daily lives.

Which wasn't to say there was no danger. For over an hour around sunrise that first morning Jack huddled in the back of the apartment with Langston, hardly daring to breathe, as the Golvins with apartments above theirs climbed down the pillar's ivy coating on their way to their fields and other jobs.

Fortunately, Langston had lived there long enough to have left plenty of residual scent behind. Apparently, it was enough to mask the fresher scents of the fugitives.

Late that evening, for the same hour, Jack and Langston again had to retreat to the rear of the apartment as the Golvins reversed direction and headed back home.

The next three days passed slowly. Though the morning and evening rush hours were the most dangerous, a scattering of Golvins moved up or down at other times during the day, making casual conversation dangerous.

Besides which, after the first day of the limited food rationing Langston worked out, Jack's stomach was rumbling so loudly and so constantly that it was a wonder none of the passing Golvins heard it.

But of more concern to Jack than his stomach, or even his safety, was Draycos.

His biggest fear on that long first night was that the K'da would be so deeply unconscious that he wouldn't be able to return to Jack's skin when it became necessary. Jack and Langston had solved that problem by having Jack strip off his clothing and stretch out on the cold stone floor with Draycos lying full length on top of him. As the time limit approached, the K'da simply melted back onto Jack's skin.

But as Langston had predicted, the bandage came off when Draycos went two-dimensional. Every time after that, whenever he came back off Jack's skin, they found that a little more fresh blood had oozed from the wound.

And while the K'da soon came back to a sort of dreamy consciousness, he remained weak and unable to do much except eat and sleep.

"I just hope he didn't take any damage he can't heal by himself," Langston commented midmorning on the third day as he carefully wiped off the latest bit of blood. "If your numbers areright, the rest of his people are still over a month away."

"He's going to get well," Jack growled. "He is."

"I know, I know," Langston said quickly. "I'm just saying, that's all."

But he was right, Jack knew as he gazed down at his sleeping friend. Draycos was recovering, but slowly. Much more slowly than he'd bounced back from other injuries. He needed medical attention, and medical treatment.

And he wasn't going to get either trapped in the Golvin canyon. "You're right," Jack said with a sigh. "We need to get him out of here." He looked up at Langston. "Tonight."

"Let's not go off half-charged," Langston warned. "If he's got internal injuries or bleeding it might actually be more dangerous to move him than to let him just lie here quietly and heal."

"And starve to death?" Jack countered.

Langston grimaced. "Point," he conceded. "Okay: compromise. At current rations, we've got about three days left. Let's give him one more day to rest and heal. Tomorrow night, win, lose, or draw, you and I will sneak down the rabbit hole and see about grabbing that aircar."

"Deal," Jack said with a twinge of dread. If they moved Draycos too soon—or moved him too late—they could end up killing him.

He was just wondering if he should suggest they wait two days instead of one when he heard the sound of a distant explosion.

Draycos's eyes came halfway open. "Jack?" he murmured.

"I know," Jack said, getting to his feet and heading to the door.

One look at the rising pillar of smoke and sand above the eastern canyon rim was all he needed. "I don't believe it," he said. "They blew up the mine."

"Someone did," Langston said grimly from beside him. "But it wasn't the Golvins. You hear that?"

Jack strained his ears. "No."

"I do," Langston said. "It's the lifter subthrob from a Djinn-90 pursuit fighter."

Jack felt his heart seize up. "Oh, no," he breathed.

"Yeah," Langston said. "Offhand, I'm guessing your Malison Ring buddies have tracked you down."

And right on cue, three large starfighters shot into view over the canyon rim.

"That tears it," Langston bit out, stepping back from the door. "Come on."

"Where are we going?" Jack asked, following him to where Draycos lay.

"Into the rabbit hole," Langston said, scooping the rest of their food back together into Jack's Judge-Paladin hat. "They'll be firing up their sensors any minute now, looking for human heat signatures. Inside a pile of stone is our best bet."

"We're already in one," Jack objected. His muscles still ached from his earlier climb up the light shaft, and he wasn't at all sure he could handle a repeat performance. "Besides, those Djinn-90s are way too big to get down here."

His last word was punctuated by the rippling crack of laser fire. There was a second salvo, and the air was suddenly shattered by the sound of crumbling stone. "Not for long," Langston said grimly, stuffing the hat into his jumpsuit. "That was one of the stabilizing arches getting blown to gravel. A couple more of those, plus a few guy wires, and they'll be able to bring in any floosing ship they want."

Jack swallowed hard. And when that happened, he and Draycos would be caught like trapped mice. "You've sold me," he said, getting a grip on Draycos's paw. "Let's get that aircar and get out of here."

"No," Draycos said.

"It's the only way," Jack told him. "Come on, get aboard."

"We don't go down," Draycos insisted, his voice strained. "We go up"

Jack looked at Langston, saw his same puzzlement mirrored there. "Draycos, Frost and his men are up there," he explained, searching Draycos's face for signs of fever or delirium. If the K'da was starting to drift off on them . . .

"But soon they will be down here," Draycos said. "Wing Sergeant Langston is correct. Once they have a path through the obstructions, all their ships will come down to join in the search. We can then cross the guy wires and arches to the edge of the canyon."

"Great, except that it's all desert out there," Langston said in a tone of strained patience. "There's nowhere to hide."

"Not even in the mine," Jack added. "They blew up the entrance."

"I know," Draycos said. "But we can hide in the sergeant's wrecked starfighter."

Jack opened his mouth. Closed it again. "Can we?" he asked, looking at Langston.

"I think maybe we can," Langston said, his forehead wrinkled in thought, a cautious excitement starting to creep into his voice. "I'll be floosed. The hatch should be—yes. A little digging and we can—and the whole thing's pretty well sensor-shielded. They'd have to specifically target it to pick us up."

"Assuming we can get to it," Jack warned. "But at least we've got a plan. Come on, Draycos."

This time the K'da obeyed. A minute later, Jack and Langston were once again in the light shaft, and once again starting to climb.

As all around them came the echoing sounds of destruction.

The sky had begun to go dark, and Alison was settling in for her fourth night in the isolation hut, when she heard the sounds of distant gunfire.

"What's that?" Taneem asked, her ears stiffening.

"Sounds like Stronlo and his friends got tired of waiting," Alison said grimly as she pulled on her shoes. "Great."

"What are we going to do?" Taneem asked anxiously.

"Try first to figure out what's happening," Alison said, cautiously pushing open the door. No one was visible among the deepening shadows. "After that, I don't have a clue." She held out her hand. "Come on."

She'd made it no more than fifty yards when Taneem whispered a warning in her ear. Alison dodged sideways behind a tree, and was pressed against it when a female Parprin shot past, heading for the hut. "Looking for me?" Alison called softly.

The Parprin jerked to a halt. "They have come," she gasped, hurrying back to Alison. "The Brummgas have entered the compound with weapons and restraints."

Another burst of gunfire echoed in the distance, and Alison winced in sympathetic pain. "So the spies figured it out."

"The Penitent has had no choice but to lead us to the attack," the Parprin said. "He asks for your aid."

And Taneem, Alison suspected, was more than ready to render that aid. And possibly get herself killed in the process.

The question was how much Alison herself was willing to do for this lost cause.

"Alison Kayna?" the Parprin prompted as she hesitated.

Alison came to a decision. "Go back to the Penitent," she ordered the Parprin. "Tell him we'll do what we can."

For a moment the alien searched Alison's face, as if not sure whether to believe her. Then, with a curt nod, she took off again through the forest.

"We are going to fight?" Taneem asked, her voice wary.

"Do you want to?" Alison countered. "We don't have to, you know. This isn't our war."

"It was our arrival that created this danger," Taneem said. "We can't simply turn our backs on them."

"Even if it means Draycos's people—your people—will die?"

Taneem seemed to brace herself. "The K'da warrior ethic requires that we do what is right," she said quietly, the words almost swallowed up by another burst of distant gunfire. "No matter what the advantage or cost to ourselves."

Alison grimaced. She'd called it, all right. Death and glory, and honor and pride. Draycos had indoctrinated the young K'da, but good. "Lucky for us, we're not K'da warriors," she reminded Taneem. Putting the sound of gunfire to her left, she headed off southward through the forest.

Taneem's head rose from her shoulder. "Then we are going to abandon them?"

"Well, we're certainly not going to charge straight into the Brummgas' guns," Alison said. "If we're going to do anything, we're going to try to be clever about it."

"Then you do have a plan."

"I said if we do anything," Alison cautioned. "Let's first figure out the lay of the land."

"But the fire is coming from the slave compound," Taneem said, flicking her tongue past Alison's chin toward her left.

"One more good reason not to go there," Alison said.

"But—"

"But mostly we're not going there because that's not where the Brummgas have their main attack line," Alison interrupted her. "The ones making all the noise in the compound are just there for show. Their job is to drive any potential rebels or escapees through gaps in the hedge into the real trap."

"Which is where we are going?"

"Which is what we're going to take a look at, anyway," Alison said. "Here we are. Everybody off."

Ahead, the hedge loomed over them, ten feet of densely tangled branches and long thorns. "You wish to go over it?" Taneem asked doubtfully as she leaped off Alison's skin.

"Not over," Alison corrected her. "Through. Get those K'da claws working."

Taneem gave a little hiss of malicious satisfaction. Lifting her forepaws and extending her claws, she set to work.

Two minutes later, she had carved out a hole big enough to sidle through. "Great," Alison said. "Now, we're going to head southeast—quietly—toward where the Brummgas should have set up their lines."

Taneem nodded and headed off at a brisk trot, her ears cocked, her tongue flicking out with every other step. Trying to suppress her own misgivings, Alison followed.

They didn't have far to go. Flickers of laser fire were coming from a line of bushes and small fountains scattered around the north end of the slaveowners' section of the grounds. The nearest firing position was no more than thirty yards away, with the entire combat line stretched across nearly four hundred yards. In the dim light, Alison could make out the hulking forms of some of the nearer Brummgas hunched over their weapons.

They weren't firing at random, either. To the north, at the base of the hedge, Alison could see the shadowy figures of Stronlo's would-be escapees. Some were still coming, zigzagging in an effort not to be shot. But most were flat on their faces, pressed helplessly against the grass. From the slave compound behind them, in mocking counterpoint to the silent lasers, came more loud volleys of gunfire.

Alison felt her throat tighten, a sinking feeling in the pit of her stomach. So the trick had worked. The roving Brummgas in the compound had forced Stronlo's slaves to make their move, and now they were trapped.

With a sigh, she trotted to a halt. "So that's it," she murmured. "I'm sorry, Taneem—"

But Taneem hadn't stopped. In fact, she had picked up speed. "Taneem!" Alison snapped. "Come back!"

The K'da ignored her. To Alison's horrified disbelief, she gave a shrill warbling scream and aimed herself at the nearest Brummgan firing post.

And charged.

Jack had made it perhaps fifty feet up the light shaft when he heard the sound of rapid footsteps far below. "Langston?"

"Quiet," the other whispered urgently.

But it was too late. Even as Jack craned his neck to look, he saw the outline of a Golvin head appear in the opening in his former apartment far below.

The Golvins had found them.

And with that, Jack knew with a wave of utter weariness, it was all over. The Golvin would run and tell the One, and the One would tell Frost's men, and they would come and get him.

They would possibly kill Jack. They would certainly kill Draycos.

"Port side near the nose," Langston murmured. "Hatch opens outward."

Jack frowned as he blinked back sudden tears. "What?"

"The hatch," Langston said. His hand appeared from below, dropping the Judge-Paladin hat and food onto Jack's chest. "Good luck."

And before Jack could even form a coherent question, Langston flipped his bow over. With the bow tips clattering along the stones and his feet running backward along the far wall, he dropped rapidly down the shaft.

"Langston!" Clenching his teeth, Jack flipped his bow over as well. If Langston was going to die, he wasn't going to die alone.

But even as he started to slide down the shaft, a pair of K'da forelegs folded themselves off his arms to catch firmly against the side walls. No, Draycos's thought whispered in his mind.

"We have to help him," Jack insisted.

He is a true warrior, Jack, Draycos said, his tone firm yet somehow gentle. He has made the decision to sacrifice himself for us, and for the K'da and Shontine people who stand at risk. Our job now is to make certain his gift was not in vain.

Tears flooded into Jack's eyes, tears of guilt and anger and hopelessness. Draycos was right, of course. But that didn't make it any easier.

Come, Draycos said, shifting his grip on the side walls. I will help you.

That's all right, Jack said, turning his bow back right side up again. I can do it.

Shaking away the tears, his ears burning with the sounds of destruction still going on around him, he resumed his climb.

The first group of Brummgas never had a chance. There were three of them, and before their pea-sized brains could register what was happening, Taneem had leaped like a gray Fury into their midst.

The attack was probably nowhere near the level of Draycos's own warrior skill. But in the white-hot fury of Taneem's righteous anger, skill and training didn't seem to matter that much. Even as Alison broke out of her paralysis and ran to her aid, the K'da's claws and tail and jaws lashed out, sending Brummgas reeling backward or laying them flat out onto the ground.

In bare seconds, it was all over. Taneem shook herself once as she stood over her defeated enemies, then found the next group with her eyes and again charged.

But this time it would be different, Alison knew with a sinking heart. Taneem's first attack had succeeded largely through the element of surprise.

But that surprise was gone now. The rest of the battle line had been alerted, and Alison could see shadowy Brummgan forms turning as they recognized the new threat coming in along their flank.

The next nearest enemy firing position was over fifty yards away over open ground. Long before Taneem reached it, Alison knew, the combined laser fire would cut her to smoking ribbons.

Unless the K'da had help.

Taneem was perhaps halfway to her next target when Alison reached the remains of her first. So far none of the Brummgas had opened fire, but any second now that would change. Ignoring the scattered bodies, Alison scooped up one of the laser rifles and snapped it up to her shoulder.

And stopped, her mouth dropping open in astonishment.

The Brummgas were running. All of them, along the entire line, were abandoning their weapons and their posts and lumbering south toward the main house as fast as their tree-trunk legs would carry them.

What in blazes . . . ?

Alison looked toward the hedge, wondering if the slaves had brought up some unexpected and impossible superweapon. But the ones still on their feet were clearly unarmed, and the ones on the ground were only now warily starting to get up again.

She looked south, wondering if some silent retreat order had been given. But there was no one there, and no indication of any reason for such an order. There was nothing, in fact.

Nothing but Taneem.

And then, finally, Alison understood. The Brummgas remembered Draycos's last visit here, all right. And they'd certainly learned from that experience.

But they hadn't learned how to fight a K'da poet-warrior. They'd learned to run from him.

Alison filled her lungs. "Don't kill them!" she shouted to Taneem as she again started after the K'da. Surrendering and fleeing enemies, she knew, were always to be rewarded with their lives. It encouraged others to do the same.

She needn't have worried. Taneem passed the first running group of Brummgas without a glance, continuing on toward the next. Like a good hunting dog, the K'da was making sure to flush all the birds from their nests.

And then, from one of the groups of bushes, a lone figure stepped out of concealment. A human figure, Alison saw, with a shoulder-slung laser rifle at the ready. "Come on, dragon," he shouted, turning the rifle toward Taneem. "Come and get me."

It was Gazen.

Alison caught her breath. But Taneem didn't even flinch. Breaking from her straight-on charge, she turned sharply south, heading in a big circle across Gazen's line of fire.

"Come on, dragon," Gazen shouted again as he swiveled to keep facing her. He fired twice, his shots scorching the air in front of and behind the running K'da. "Come and face me like a warrior."

Alison braked to a halt and dropped to one knee, bringing her borrowed laser to her shoulder. With Gazen's silhouette partially obscured by the bushes beside him, she knew this would be a very tricky shot.

And she would get only one. As soon as that laser light flashed, he would turn his own weapon on her . . . and unlike Gazen, Alison had no cover nearby to protect her.

But Taneem couldn't circle forever. Sooner or later, Gazen would get tired of trying to taunt her into a direct attack, and he would kill her.

Clenching her teeth, Alison held her breath and squinted down the barrel at Gazen's profile.

And snapped the weapon up and off target as a handful of racing figures abruptly appeared from her left and slammed into Gazen's back. His laser fired once, blasting into the ground in front of him, before he disappeared beneath a mass of bodies.

Stronlo's rebels had arrived.

By the time Alison reached them, it was all over. "I heard you say not to kill them," Stronlo said, his voice grim as he panted for air. "But this one was special."

"I agree," Alison said, looking down at the body that lay motionless on the grass. She was just as glad that the lack of light hid the details. "As far as I'm concerned, you're welcome to him."

"Thanks to you and the dragon," Stronlo said

Taneem came up to them. "Is he stopped?" she asked.

"Permanently," Alison said. "Nice move, by the way. Did you actually see Stronlo coming up behind him, or were you just hoping?"

"Of course I saw them," Taneem said, flipping her tail. "A K'da warrior strives always to do what is right. But that doesn't mean a K'da warrior is stupid."

Alison nodded. "I'll remember that."

"What do we do now?" Stronlo asked.

"We wait." Half turning, Alison gestured toward the wall behind them.

Toward the wall, and the lights of the half-dozen Djinn-90 fighters hovering just beyond its built-in defenses. "The Malison Ring strike force has arrived," she said. "Let's sit back and see what happens."

By the time Jack reached the top of the pillar the sounds of crashing stone and shattered guy wires had ceased. The angled skylight opening was covered with a clear dome to keep out the rain, but Draycos's claws made quick work of the fasteners. A minute later, Jack eased his way to the edge of the pillar and looked down.

To a horrifying sight.

In a dozen places the cropland had been littered by rubble from the destroyed stone arches. The three Djinn-90 starfighters were moving slowly along through the air, their lasers blasting methodically away at the ground ahead of them. Golvins were everywhere, running toward the edges of the canyon like panicked ants.

There were bodies, too. At least twenty of them that Jack could see, either beneath sections of the crushed stone or lying in patches of burning crops.

And at the focus of the starfighters' attack was Langston.

He was sprinting across the ground, zigzagging between stands of plants and leaping over the irrigation canals, dodging the laser blasts as Frost's men herded him toward the nearest canyon wall. Behind the Djinn-90s, a much larger deep-space transport was drifting along, watching the scene like an approving mother wolf.

Jack shivered. "They're going to kill him," he said, the words twisting in his stomach. "As soon as they find out he's not me, they'll kill him."

"Then let us make sure his sacrifice is not in vain," Draycos said from his shoulder. "There—across that bridge."

With an effort, Jack lifted his eyes from the carnage below. His pillar was attached to the next by a stone arch, with another arch leading to the next pillar in line. Beyond that, a set of intact guy wires led the rest of the way to the edge of the canyon.

It would be a tricky climb. Tricky and dangerous both, especially with his muscle fatigue and Draycos's injuries.

But Draycos was right. It had to be done. Setting his foot on the arch, Jack looked over toward his goal, the distant bulge in the sand that hid Langston's wrecked starfighter.

He paused, frowning. There wasn't just one bulge there, he saw now. There were two, one much larger than the other.

He was still staring in confusion when the larger bulge stirred, the sand seeming to melt away from it.

And with a sudden gunning of its lifters the Essenay shot over the canyon rim straight toward him.

The ship was hovering above Jack's pillar, its hatch open, before the transport and starfighters below seemed to catch on to the fact that their quarry was slipping from their grasp. But by then, it was too late. The pillar itself blocked most of their frantic laser fire, and the gap they'd cut for themselves in the aerial obstacles was clear down at the other end of the canyon.

Five minutes later, with the Djinn-90s still trying desperately to close the gap, Jack keyed in the stardrive.

Eight men in Malison Ring uniforms were standing guard at the main gate as Alison led her party across the neatly trimmed lawn toward them. "That's close enough," the sergeant in charge warned, taking a step toward her. His shoulder-slung machine gun, she noted, wasn't quite pointed in her direction. "What do you want?"

"I have a group of slaves here," Alison said, taking another step and then likewise stopping. Behind her, she sensed Stronlo and the others doing the same. "All they want is to leave."

The sergeant shook his head. "Sorry. The Patri Chookoock was kind enough to open his gates and his estate for us. I don't think letting his slaves walk out the front door would be a proper way to repay his courtesy."

"Was it courtesy, or was it bowing to the inevitable?" Alison countered. "I saw the force you brought with you. You could have knocked your own hole in his wall if you'd had to."

In the light from the driveway markers she saw his eyes narrow. "You're not a slave," he said. "Who are you?"

"My name's Alison Kayna," Alison told him. "I'm sort of a negotiator."

"For slaves?"

Alison shrugged. "Slaves need someone to speak for them as much as anyone else. Probably more so."

"Probably," the sergeant conceded, his eyes flicking to the mixed group of aliens standing silently behind her. "Sorry, Kayna, but my orders are to keep the place bottled up until the major finishes his search. That means nobody leaves."

"But these aren't anybody," Alison reminded him. "By Brum-a-dum law, they're property."

Behind the sergeant, one of his men stirred. The other mercenaries didn't look all that comfortable, either. "Yeah, I know," the sergeant said, his voice darkening with contempt. "But we didn't come here to free a bunch of slaves."

"You're not here to keep them in, either," Alison countered. "Or did the Patri Chookoock hire you to do that?"

"Hardly," the sergeant said sourly. "In fact, he may be looking down the barrel of some real trouble right now, depending on what the major finds."

"Then you don't owe him anything. Right?"

The sergeant's face pinched uncertainly. "Well . . ."

"Sergeant?" the soldier who had reacted called. "Do we need to keep this gate closed? It's feeling kind of stuffy over here."

For a long minute the sergeant studied Alison's face. Then, his lip quirked. "Go ahead and open it," he ordered.

"The gate squad might object," one of the other mercenaries warned.

"Make sure they don't," the sergeant said flatly. "Janus formation—we don't want anyone sneaking in behind us."

He motioned Alison forward. "You wouldn't mind marching your livestock past my men, would you?" he asked. "Just to make sure the guy we're looking for isn't tucked away in the crowd."

"No problem," Alison assured him, gesturing in turn to Stronlo. The Eytra lined up his people and led them toward the waiting soldiers.

Shoofteelee, the house slave, was the last in line. His face was rippling with Wistawk emotion, his eyes already gleaming dreamily with the glow of freedom.

Alison waited until they had all cleared the gate before stepping forward herself. "Thank you," she said quietly.

"Like you said, they're property," the sergeant reminded her. "You have someplace to take them?"

Alison nodded. "I understand the Daughters of Harriet Tub man have a station nearby."

The sergeant nodded back. "Good luck."

And a minute later, for the first time in nearly a month, Alison found herself breathing free air again.

She'd almost forgotten how good that felt.

Stronlo was standing nearby, waiting silently with his newly freed compatriots. "Well, come on," Alison said briskly, heading down the entry drive toward the public street and the city beyond. "Your future's waiting."